


Getting Caught

by KateKintail



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one likes getting caught during a private moment...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Caught

**Author's Note:**

> A quick, fun PWP written for MMoM in 2009 and the 10th anniversary of Star Wars TPM. Challenge #2 - Masturbation Challenge. Write a 50 word, 100 word, or No Limit fic where one or both of our boys get caught masturbating by THEIR masters. You may use either Yoda or Dooku for Qui-Gon's master

                Scheduling changes of this sort were not unheard of at the Temple. Nonetheless, Qui-Gon was pleasantly surprised to arrive for his meeting with members of the Jedi Council and find he had instead several free hours to himself. He headed back to the quarters he shared with his padawan, trying to think of something he could send Obi-Wan out for. Since he had a few hours of freedom, both he and his hard-on were looking forward to some actual, quality alone time.   
  
                Qui-Gon had just decided upon the perfect errand for Obi-Wan to run as Qui-Gon’s hand wrapped around the door handle. He punched in the access code into the security pad and was granted entry. But he only made it into the room far enough to let the door slide back closed behind him. Qui-Gon stood, frozen on the spot, staring at the scene before him.   
  
                Obi-Wan sat in the center of the couch, legs spread wide, completely naked. On the table before him were various implements that would have looked harmless in any other context. But the cushion Obi-Wan had hastily grabbed to cover his crotch and the hot flushed cheeks certainly spoke to intent. Obi-Wan tried to control himself, but his voice wavered slightly at first, which did not help his cause in the least. “H-hello, Master.”   
  
                Qui-Gon’s voice was calm, steady. “Hello, Padawan. My meeting was rescheduled so I found myself with some free time on my hands. I am… sorry for interrupting you.”   
  
                Shaking his head vigorously, Obi-Wan said. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was merely going to have a… snack.”  
  
                “Indeed?” Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. “A snack?”   
  
                Obi-Wan’s cheeks reddened to an impossible degree. “Yes, Master.”  
  
                “Ah.” Qui-Gon nodded, walked over, and sat down on the same couch, not far from Obi-Wan. “I see. You decided to have a snack of oil, carrots, and cucumbers? While wearing no clothing at all? And sitting on the couch instead of at the kitchen table?”  
  
                This time, Obi-Wan’s “Yes, Master,” was terribly weak.   
  
                Qui-Gon chuckled. He let his cloak fall from his shoulders, against the back of the couch. “You are a man now and nearing your trials. Yet I see I still have much to teach you.” He held two fingers up and swept them to the side. The items on the coffee table slid the length then off the edge onto the floor. Qui-Gon closed his eyes in concentration and curled his fingers, causing a large bottle of proper lubricant to float from his bedroom, right into the palm of his hand.  
  
                Their eyes met for a long moment. Then Qui-Gon reached down and removed the pillow from Obi-Wan’s crotch. What Qui-Gon had beheld when he had initially opened the door to their quarters was just as stiff and straight now—perhaps more-so. Qui-Gon shifted slightly in his seat now at the sight of it. Obi-Wan was flawless, stunning, delectable. The sight was enough to make Qui-Gon’s erection strain excitedly against his leggings. Qui-Gon thought he might burst as his fingertips brushed ever so lightly over the soft, smooth, supple skin.   
  
                Obi-Wan shook his head in protest, and Qui-Gon quickly, respectfully retracted his hand. “I’m sorry, Padawan Mine. I overstepped our boundaries.”   
  
                Continuing to shake his head, Obi-Wan took his master’s hand. “No. Not at all.” Suddenly, Qui-Gon could feel the genuine reassurance flooding into their bond. Beyond that, he could feel desire. And beyond that, true affection and adoration. Qui-Gon was moved and was intrigued further when Obi-Wan began to elaborate. “I merely wanted to remind you of how you taught me to fight with the lightsaber. It was useful when you took my saber and guided my movements. But I would never have understood how everything fit together had you not demonstrated to show me what the expert, final result was supposed to look like.” Obi-Wan dropped his gaze to Qui-Gon’s crotch and let it stay there.  
  
                Qui-Gon smiled. “It is a bit warm in here,” Qui-Gon agreed. “And I do feel over-dressed, all of a sudden.” He undid the sash of a belt around his middle and slid his boots off one at a time. He pulled the double tunics over his head, his hair settling down to brush his shoulders. Kindly, Qui-Gon did not call attention to it, but he could not help but notice the way Obi-Wan’s cock jumped at the reveal. The sight of his master’s bare chest was certainly not unpleasant to him.   
  
                Nor, it seemed, was the rest of Qui-Gon’s body. Obi-Wan had seen his master in the nude countless times. Two could hardly share quarters without the occasional glimpse taking place. And many times while on missions there was no choice but strip down in front of each other or take one’s cock out to relieve one’s self. But this time it was different. This time Qui-Gon could feel the desire in the air and the appreciation through their bond. It was Qui-Gon’s good luck that Obi-Wan found him as stimulating as he found Ob-Wan.   
  
                Qui-Gon tossed the last article of clothing aside and then he picked the lube up again. He squirted a dollop onto his hand and then spread a few squirts along the length of his cock. Soon his member was shiny and slick. His hand made soft squelching and squishing sounds as it slid down and back up again. The sound made Obi-Wan move restlessly beside him. He wanted and needed to be touched, but he would never dare say so. Qui-Gon demonstrated a little longer, making his strokes long, leisurely, and languid.  
  
                Just when Obi-Wan looked as if he could not contain himself any longer—when his small, excited bounces nearly had him bouncing off the couch altogether—Qui-Gon reached over to him. But instead of going straight for Obi-Wan’s cock, Qui-Gon wrapped his arm around Obi-Wan’s torso. He pulled the man nearer, so that Obi-Wan was sitting on the shed cloak along with Qui-Gon. His body was burning with heat and Qui-Gon held him close, as if he could feed on the arousal through their skin.   
  
                Obi-Wan nuzzled into his master, breathing deep and taking in the strong neck and hairy chest. Shyly, through their bond, he uttered the words //Touch me.//  
  
                Qui-Gon smiled with pleasure. “Touch you?”  
  
                Obi-Wan nodded. His hips bucked upwards, raising his crotch. //Touch me, Master.//  Then, more bravely out loud, “Please touch me, Master.”  
  
                Obliging, Qui-Gon applied another dollop of lubrication and then took hold of Obi-Wan’s cock. The man’s body sung Qui-Gon’s praises from the start, rocking in synch to the strokes. Obi-Wan’s breathing and heart beat in time, as well. And the look on his face was one of pure bliss. He probably would have reached orgasm fairly soon if Qui-Gon had kept it up just like that.  
  
                But simply stroking was no sort of a lesson at all. A hand job—even a nice one—was something a youngling could have figured out on his own. There was more to be demonstrated.  
  
                Qui-Gon sped up his strokes, pulling until Obi-Wan began moaning and trembling. “Getting close, Padawan Mine?” Qui-Gon asked.  
  
                Obi-Wan nodded. “So… so close. Oh Master…. Master- oh!!” Obi-Wan turned his head, nose pressed against Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “Don’t let me come yet.”  
  
                Chuckling, Qui-Gon pulled his arm back from around Obi-Wan. “Of course I will not.” He slowed his strokes then sped back up again. Just when it seemed as though Obi-Wan might orgasm, his master skillfully brought him back down again, slowing without stopping completely. Over and over again, Obi-Wan very nearly came, his body begging for release but his mind wanting it to last as long as possible. Qui-Gon knew exactly how much and how little. He knew precisely when and when not. And Obi-Wan sighed in relief, impressed each time he was allowed to go on enjoying his master’s touch for just a little longer.  
  
                Qui-Gon did not need to ask Obi-Wan for trust. He knew his padawan trusted him implicitly. He could feel his padawan trusted him completely. Qui-Gon answered Obi-Wan’s emotional responses through their bond, caressing him with the Force that ran through them and around them so strongly.  
  
                Then, with a dip of two fingers into the bottle of lubrication, Qui-Gon showed Obi-Wan that there were much better things to use than vegetables. The tips of his dripping fingers massaged Obi-Wan’s pucker, making Obi-Wan’s cock leak with anticipation. His touch was gentle but stimulating, playing, poking, pressing.   
  
                Dripping and shaking, Obi-Wan managed to open his eyes and look pleadingly up at his master. With that, Qui-Gon’s fingers slid inside. He did not do it little by little. He did not start with one finger then gradually increase the number. In went two from the start, penetrating slowly but steadily, getting past the tight muscles then scissoring and probing until his fingers curved in just the right way, hitting just the right spot.   
  
                Obi-Wan sat straight up and cried out. His back arched and creamy seed poured from his cock without restraint. Shocked at the stunning sensation that had come over him, Obi-Wan did not grow bashful again until his cock and the rest of him were both entirely drained. Then he turned and buried his face in his master’s chest again. He was a whole mix of emotions, from shame to enjoyment, confusion to pleasure, exhaustion to excitement.   
  
                Qui-Gon embraced them all, taking them in, drinking them up as parts of his beloved padawan. But it was the sticky, white warmth on Qui-Gon’s skin that made his own release inevitable. His cock was pressed against the side of Obi-Wan’s hip. Instinctively, Qui-Gon raised one strong leg and hooked it around Obi-Wan’s. Thigh against thigh, cock hard against skin, Qui-Gon thrust forward harder and faster than ever before. Obi-Wan stayed close, both understanding and trapped.   
  
                It did not take long until Qui-Gon was gasping, chest filling repeatedly with breath. Then he came much more quietly than his padawan had but with just as much pleasure.   
  
                His arms were still wrapped around Obi-Wan when the door to their quarters slid open. There was a surprised “Herumm?” uttered, and the two Jedi looked over to see Master Yoda.   
  
                The calmness in Qui-Gon’s voice was entirely gone. “H-hello, Master!”   
  
                Yoda stared unblinkingly at them. “Rescheduled my meeting was. Thought I would catch up with you.”   
  
                Qui-Gon reached over and quickly covered his padawan and himself with a pillow and the end of his robes.   
  
                Yoda sighed and shook his head, “Forgotten my first lesson about this you have, my old padawan. Hmm? Lock the door, you must.”


End file.
